A Sword of Mercy
by dominicgrim
Summary: Yup I have jumped on the Hawke/Fenris wagon "chuckles."Heart broken and angry Marian Hawke makes her way across the Free Marches with Fenris at her side, but a young elf comes into their lives. An elf who may offer either salvation or damnation. A Chant of Darkness universe story set post game. Fenris plus F Hawke eventually. Violence and some harsh language.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: This is a six chapter story I have had rattling around in my head for a while now. The Following Story takes place in _The Chant of Darkness_ Universe. Six months have passed since the destruction of the Chantry in Kirkwall. It is not necessary to read _Chant of Darkness_ to understand what is going on, this is just a companion piece. I of course do not own Dragon Age; I just like to play here.

Sword of Mercy

Part one: Broken

_She ran, panic ate her resolve, sweat burned her eyes. She ran past the pews, past the great statues of their prophet. Where was it? Where in the sodding void was it?_

_She knew it was here somewhere, if she found it maybe she could stop…_

"_Hawke."_

_His voice rang out, a death knell in her heart. _

_She turned._

_He stood before her. His blonde hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, his black robes seemed to shine brighter in the candle light of the Chantry. His eyes, eyes that once watched her with such love and affection, were cold and mocking. _

_How could he do this to her? He was her love, her life._

"_I told you I would break your heart," he laughed mockingly. His eyes began to glow; lines of magic ran like veins across his skin._

"_It begins," the voice was her love's but not his; it was the voice of Justice, the voice of vengeance, the voice of a murderous monster._

_The world turned red as magic crackled around her, stone cracked, glass shattered. She tried to scream as her flesh vanished, as the world around her burned. Vengeance stood before, her lover was gone, destroyed by the weapon he had unleashed. Only a mad laughing skeleton remained._

_A vision of the death._

_The world exploded around her._

IOI

"ANDERS NO!"

Marian Hawke's scream shook the silent darkness, her heart raced, sweat poured down her skin. Her eyes darted around their darkened camp. The night time sounds of the forest slowly slowed her pounding heart. A sad sigh escaped her lips.

Another nightmare, Maker save her.

She rose from her bedroll and made for the small nearby stream. She splashed cold water on her face trying to erase the last of the violent images from her mind. She regarded the face she saw reflected in the cool moonlight. Her blue eyes were cold and empty; the red scar that ran across her nose seemed more pronounced. Her short black hair was streaked with gray, but that did not really surprise her, her Mother had told her long ago that it was common for women in their family to go gray before their time. Mother had been completely gray by the time she was thirty five. Father had called her his silver fox. So it was not surprising that Hawke would start to gray at just thirty one.

Of course, between the stress of her life as champion and the problems in Kirkwall she looked about fifteen years older than that, add on to that that she was having nightmares now. It was no surprise she looked so haggard

_Who needs nightmares when you live my life?_

Her life had become a waking nightmare. The Seekers of Truth hunted her; she was an accessory in the death of Grand Cleric Elthina. The Templars hunted her, she had fought to defend a circle that no longer was worthy of her protection. She had also freed Bethany, Bethany her beloved baby sister. Her sister's freedom had been what had driven her for so long, as things in Kirkwall had fallen apart within the circle Hawke became of obsessed with freeing her sister before something bad happened to her.

As it turns out something bad did happen, but it allowed Hawke to free her sister, the only good thing to come out of that horrible night.

The night the Chantry of Kirkwall was destroyed.

The night she murdered the man she loved.

Hawke cursed angrily under her breath, fighting back tears that she would not allow to flow.

Bethany was in hiding now, starting a new life somewhere in Ferelden, somewhere safe.

Somewhere far away from the Champion of Kirkwall.

Somewhere far away from the sister who loved her.

It was better that way, better for the both of them.

They were camped somewhere outside of the city of Tantervale. A month from now Hawke hoped to be outside of the Free Marches entirely. She could no longer stay here. Even if she was not being hunted by the Chantry's attack dogs.

This place hurt too much, it was too full of memories.

"Are you well Hawke?"

Fenris's calm even voice did much to sooth her nerves. Of all her companions, only Fenris remained, the silver haired Tevinter elf was likely the only friend she had left. He had promised her he would not leave her; he had promised Bethany that he would not leave her, which was the only reason that her sister had been able to board the ship for Ferelden.

"I'm fine Fenris," she sighed running her hand through her graying dark hair, "Just…another bad dream."

The elf sat by the fire, its flames reduced to glowing ambers, she could almost make out the slight glow of the lyrium markings on his skin. Her friend was agitated, or at the least annoyed.

"The Abomination hurt you badly," the elf snorted, "if he was not already dead I would kill him myself."

An angry retort tried to spring from her lips, but she stopped it, Fenris had always spoken his mind, it was one of the things she respected him for.

Anders, part of her wished she could turn back time, either to save him or send him back to death again for what he had done.

But he was dead and he would stay that way; he had died in the streets of lowtown, died after setting off a fire that had nearly destroyed all of Kirkwall.

He had died by her hand.

And as his heart had beaten its last, her heart had broken into a million pieces…

_Damn you Anders, damn you and your accursed mission._

_And Damn me for not saving you._

Hawke snarled coldly at her own weakness, there was no place for it in her heart now. She needed to shut it away, to make it grow cold within her.

It was the only way she would stay sane.

IOI

The elf ran through the forest, as fast as its child's legs could carry it.

Free, after eight long years finally free.

Voices rang out in the darkness, the elf was being pursued, Agents of the Master, that bastard Claudius, and Cassius as well, the master's apprentice.

_We could turn and fight?_

The elf rejected the suggestion, too many hunters; Cyrion had not risked his life so the elf would be recaptured so easily.

_We cannot out run them._

_I know._

_So what are we going to do?_

The elf had no idea.

For the first time in years the elf prayed, prayed to the Maker who had abandoned them eight years ago when the Tevinters had snatched them from their home in Denerim?

Help me please. Please sweet Maker save me, save us.

The elf's prayers were about to be answered.

IOI

Fenris hated seeing Hawke like this; he missed the glib beautiful woman who had stood with him against Danarius. He missed the woman who had faced a giant rock wraith in the deep roads without fear; he missed the one who had killed the Qunari Arishok in single combat.

He missed Hawke period.

The Abomination had broken her, may he rot for all eternity. For almost six years he had this woman in his heart and in his bed, and he threw it all away for what… a political statement, a desire to become a martyr?

If the Abomination had wanted to die Fenris would have gladly obliged him, there was no reason to bring such pain down upon Hawke, the woman he had claimed to love…

…and Fenris's heart's desire.

He had watched her so long from afar, content to be her friend. He would rather have Hawke in his life as a friend than not at all, but that did not stop the yearning in his heart.

He had no skill with words, to sooth her mind and heal her heart, so he waited, just as she had waited for him. It had taken a long time, but in the end she had freed him from the self-destroying hatred that the Magisters had burned into him over a life time of pain.

Now it was Hawke who was lost, lost in hatred and anger.

She blamed herself for what the Abomination had done. Love had blinded her to the fact that the demon, Fenris refused to think of the creature as a benevolent spirit, had warped the former warden until the man that Hawke had loved was gone.

He had used her, he had manipulated her. The markings on the elf's body flared at the thought. He had murdered dozens if not hundreds of innocent people. Hawke felt responsible, and the death of the Abomination had done nothing to erase her guilt. She blamed herself for the Chantry, the mages, and the madness that had swallowed the Knight-Commander in the end.

Her hate continued to grow.

Twice they had been attacked by bandits since leaving Kirkwall, and twice Hawke had slaughtered them without mercy. Cold laughter spilled from her throat, her eyes flashed with savage glee, she had wanted to destroy, and destroy she had. She gave no quarter, she even ran down two that had tried to flee.

Hawke was becoming someone he did not know.

She refused to talk to him about this. It was always "I'm fine Fenris," or "Don't worry Fenris."

But he did worry, he could not help it.

Something needed to change…and soon.

Sighing, the elf returned to the work of cleaning their blades, he suspected they may need them soon.

IOI

_There, you see it, light!_

_It is probably more hunters, apprentice._

_Or it could be help._

The voice within the elf was silent…thinking.

_We have no choice._

The elf bolted for the weak light from the dying campfire.

The hunters closing fast.

IOI

The sound of voices and of people moving quickly through the forest brought Fenris and Hawke to their feet. The Tevinter elf tossed Hawke her great sword before drawing his own. Years of fighting together had forged them into a solid fighting unit. The call of battle filled their ears, making them sharp.

Fenris's markings blazed. Whoever would deem to attack them in their own camp was in for a big surprise.

A small figure bolted into the camp, eyes wide with fear. It was a young elf, fourteen maybe fifteen if Fenris was any judge.

"Help me," the elf boy shrieked, "For the love of the Maker please help."

"It is okay," Hawke growled, get behind me. The terrified boy obeyed taking shelter behind the armored woman.

The boy's pursuers emerged. Hate flowed through Fenris's veins. He knew the armor the men wore, and he recognized the robes that their leader wore.

"Hunters!" he hissed.

Savage joy burned in Hawke's breast.

Hunters. Slavers.

"Good," she sneered, bloodlust flashing in her eyes. Finally, someone worthy of her wrath, she hadn't killed slavers in such a long time; she feared she was getting out of practice.

"I am Claudius," the robed man announced, he was blonde with a cruel hooked nose; he regarded the two warriors and the boy hiding behind them. "Stand down woman, and call off your servant," he said motioning to Fenris, "this slave is our property."

Fenris sneered, _servant_? Well at least they were not after him, and they had not called him a slave.

That title apparently belonged to the poor boy cringing behind them.

"You are a long way from home serah," Hawke said coolly, "and last time I checked slavery was illegal in the Free Marches."

"The boy is our property," Claudius growled, his soldiers tensing, "you will back away from him now or there will be consequences."

"I think he will stay right here, thanks." Hawke purred her gauntlets tightening around her great sword, "and so shall you, what is left of you anyway."

The Tevinter looked perplexed, the two were greatly outnumbered, and they acted like he was the one in jeopardy.

The Tevinter snorted, stupid little bitch.

"You should learn your place woman," he sneered arrogantly, "Before someone carves up your face again," he said pointing at her scar.

The scar had been left by a rage demon; it had clawed her face while she had been fighting underneath the foundries of Lowtown, trying to save her…

No! Don't go there!

Quentin's face sprang into her mind, the bastard who had murdered her Mother.

The mage who murdered her mother.

A mage like the man she had loved, the man who betrayed her.

His face quickly morphed into Anders'.

_I told you I would break your heart._

"I know my place," Hawke snarled at the Tevinter, "standing over your broken corpse!"

The Tevinter chuckled arrogantly, his men advanced.

"And who do I have the pleasure of slaying," he laughed, "I'm sure my Master would like to know."

"Who am I?" Hawke laughed, Fenris glanced nervously at her, and he could see how close she was to losing control.

He almost felt sorry for the hunters…

Almost.

"I am death," Hawke said coldly, "this is damnation," she said motioning to Fenris, "we are the destroyers of worlds. The Maker sent us; he wants you to make peace with your gods. Because we are the last living souls you shall ever see. Go to him now, knowing that death has decided that this is the night you come with her."

The Tevinter raised his arm, ready to call for the attack.

He never got the chance.

Hawke darted forward, Fenris at her back.

The dying had begun.

Author's Note: If you have read _Chant of Darkness_ you know that Bethany is not quite as safe in Ferelden as Hawke had hoped. That is it for chapter one, I will try to have two up soon.


	2. Chapter 2

Sword of Mercy

Part 2 of 6

Hunters

The elf sat by the fire, hands up trying to warm them. The man with the silver hair and the spikey armor sat across the fire, watching curiously.

_Tread lightly apprentice,_ the voice warned, _even those who would be our allies may not understand._

The young elf nodded.

_I understand teacher._

The battle had been brutal; Claudius' men despite having superior numbers were no match for the scarred woman and her elven companion. The two flew at the hunters in a blur. The elf watched their attacks and reveled. For so long the elf had been helpless, treated like nothing by these people.

It was…gratifying to see them punished.

_These are two great warriors apprentice; fortune favors us in their discovery. From these two you can learn more than you ever could from me._

_Maybe they will help us? Maybe they will help rescue the others?_

The voice considered this carefully before responding.

_The world is a cruel place apprentice; if these be mercenaries they may not help a solitary elf without any coin to pay them. The others may be lost._

The elf refused to believe that, there had to be a way to convince these two to aid them, even If only to help make the world a better place.

Because that is why the elf agreed to become the teacher's apprentice.

To make the world a better place.

IOI

Fenris was not quite sure what to make of their newest companion.

The elf was small, even for their kind, with bright green eyes and short brown hair that was so light it was almost blonde. The boy fidgeted constantly, under his ragged tunic, Fenris could make out the bandages that covered his ribs. When he shifted just right the young elf would gasp.

Fenris snorted angrily, he remembered being kicked by Danarius on occasion, he suspect that is probably what had happened to the boy.

"We could change those for you if you like?" Fenris offered, he started to approach but stopped at the boy's frightened look, he looked ready to bolt for the wilderness.

""I will not harm you." the Tevinter elf said backing down, his voice calm and soothing. It would not do to have the boy run off before Hawke had a chance to talk to him.

Where was Hawke? Fenris had left her to interrogate the mage almost a half hour ago and she still had not returned.

He prayed that she was not out there right now torturing the man. Hopefully she had not fallen that far.

He had no love for slavers, and cared nothing for their safety. His concern was only for Hawke. He knew the places where hatred could take you.

He would do his best to be sure that she did not go to them.

The boy watched him warily, this was foolish, there was no need to stare at each other in fear all night. He would take the initiative.

"I am called Fenris," he said to the young one, "may I ask who you are?"

"Ame…" the boy paused wincing against the tightness of his bandages, "Amos," he finally replied, "My name is Amos."

If not a lie, it was definitely not the truth, he let it pass for now.

"I bid you welcome Amos," Fenris bowed his head slightly, "I find myself curious, what would bring out so many hunters to capture one so small?"

Amos clammed up, his mouth in a tight line.

"I hold no love for slaver s Amos," the Tevinter elf growled, "I was a slave myself for many years, but I finally freed myself."

"You…you were a slave? You were…a slave like me?"

He nodded.

Fenris reached carefully into his pack, producing a bright shiny apple. Amos's eyes widened with hunger as he regard the piece of fruit.

_Starving_, Fenris knew what that felt like too.

He tossed the apple to the boy, he looked at it carefully for a moment, deciding if it was safe to eat it, but hunger finally won out over caution. The boy tore into the apple with his teeth, savoring the sweet juices within. It may have been a banquet from the look of ecstasy in Amos's eyes.

Fenris waited for the boy to finish.

"There is another one in my pack and some water if you agree to answer my questions."

Amos paused, as if listening to someone, finally the boy nodded.

It was a hard thing teaching someone who was a slave to trust, Fenris remembered how long it had taken him to open up to Hawke.

Hawke, where was that woman anyway!

IOI

Hawke made her way back to camp, a few new dents in her champion's armor, and a bit of blood on her face…

None of it hers.

The mage Claudius had put up a bit of a fight, but in the end he had told Hawke everything…he had talked until he ran out of breath.

_A shame that he did not have more in him._

She had cornered him between a pair of boulders out in the woods; he had tried to run when the last of his guard had fallen.

She had no intention of letting the bastard escape.

He had tried to catch her in a crushing prison, but she had cleansed it. He had tried to call on the power of his blood, but she smited him.

The man's shock turned to fear then anger.

"Templar whore!" he raged.

Hawke had smiled.

She was no Templar, but for three years she had paid that broken down ex-Templar Samson a sovereign a week to teach her the Templar disciplines. Anders had been furious when he found out, but she had disarmed him with a simple kiss.

"Know your enemies love," she had whispered suggestively. They had gone on to **know** each other several times that night.

She pushed those memories back, she wasn't that woman anymore. She had to be cold, she had to be hard.

She had to survive.

"You're going to tell me everything," she purred, bringing her sword to the mage's throat, "Do that and I will leave you in peace.

The man's Adam's apple bobbed furiously as he nodded an affirmative.

He told her everything: whom he served, why they were here, how many had come with them.

Once he had finished she raised her sword, fury and hate flashing in her blue eyes.

"YOU PROMISED TO LET ME LIVE!" the mage had wailed.

"I promised to leave you in peace," Hawke said blandly, "I never said how many pieces that was."

_I told you I would break your heart._

The rage came upon her; she released it on the slaver.

She had ended it quickly, her rage sated…for now.

Hawke returned to camp with spring in her step; she could barely suppress the savage grin that wanted to come to her face.

There were more, more slavers and a Magister Lord about three days journey from here. They would seek them out, and rescue the slaves that were travelling with them.

Then the Magister would die, his men would die, they would all die.

She did not think that it would be hard to convince Fenris of the worthiness of their goal. He had never shied away from fighting slavers.

She found Fenris sitting by the fire with the boy, the young elf munched happily on an apple.

"Hawke," she could hear the concern in her companion's voice.

"I'm fine Fenris," she said dismissively walking past him. The Tevinter elf stiffened, but said nothing more.

"This is Amos," he volunteered.

"Hello," Hawked said warmly, well as warmly as she could manage these days. "I'm Marian Hawke."

Amos nodded a greeting, his mouth full of apple.

"Amos escaped from a Tevinter caravan two nights ago," Fenris informed her, "They were making for…"

"An old Tevinter ruin a day's travel outside of Starkhaven," Hawke interrupted, filling in what she had gotten out of the now deceased mage, "built into a cliff along the Minanter River. They have over thirty slaves with them. Part of some kind of blood sacrifice the Magister hopes to make."

At the mention of a sacrifice, Amos leapt up his face panicked.

"Please you must help us!" the boy cried, "He is going to kill Cyrion; **he is going to kill all of them!"**

"Calm down," Hawke said soothingly, "We won't let these bastards hurt your friends. You have my word on that."

The boy calmed, he smiled gratefully at her.

For the first time in months she felt warm. She felt like herself…if only for a moment.

"Hawke," Fenris looked at her as if she had lost her mind.

"Yes," She asked her eyes narrowing.

"Just the two of us?" he asked.

"Yes,"

"Hawke," he growled, tried to make the woman see reason, "A Magister would not travel so far from the Imperium without support."

"We killed twenty here," she said blandly, "He has fifty more with him, including two lesser mages."

"And we will just run in and kill them all?"

"Yes." Hawke said flatly, her tone allowed for no discussion.

Fenris turned to his tent, muttering Tevinter curses under his breath.

Hawke felt a twinge of shame for her brusque behavior, but dismissed it. Now was not a time for words it was a time for action. She turned to the young elf.

"Are you fit to travel Amos?"

The boy nodded.

"Then we leave at first light," Hawke said flatly.

She would not let the Magister kill those people.

She would not.

IOI

_They are dangerous ones, this wolf and this bird of prey, we must be cautious._

It was all Amos could do to keep up with the two warriors, Amos could feel the sweat soaking the elf's clothes, Maker save them, but they could not stop.

They set a brisk pace, and it was clear that Ser Fenris was angry at Ser Hawke, though Amos could not tell why.

_The wolf fears that this is a mistake_, teacher chimed in, _he may be right_.

Amos did not know how teacher could say such a thing. Cyrion had been kind to them, the others too. If it was not for them they would never have escaped.

_But without us there can be no ritual,_ Teacher reminded Amos, _remember that apprentice, we may be destroying all that the others have given up for us._

Amos did not care. They had to save Cyrion and the others they had…

Amos felt warmth running down his legs. He paused, what was the matter… what was…

Blood ran free onto the sandy ground.

Amos screamed.

IOI

Hawke turned, drawn by the elf's panicked screams. Her battle senses were on full alert. Fenris spun as well his sword drawn.

She found the elf sitting in the dirt, his hands coated with blood.

"It won't stop," Amos wailed fearfully, "it won't stop!"

Hawke's eyes wandered over the elf seeing no injury, if Amos was not injured then…

Then she got it.

_Fourteen or fifteen, the elf was about the right age._

Oh Maker, the poor dear.

She pulled the elf into an embrace trying to calm poor Amos.

"It is okay," she cooed, "don't worry."

Amos sobbed at Hawke, the elf knew that she knew.

"Hawke," Fenris was at her side, "What is going on. Is Amos alright?"

"She is fine Fenris," Hawke replied, "just a little scared that is all."

Fenris was about to ask what she meant when he got it too.

_She._

"I'm sorry," Amos whimpered, "I…I have been Amos for almost eight years now. Cyrion hid me from the Magister. He had a… taste for elven girls. Cyrion didn't want him to…"

Amos broke down again.

Hawke did her best to calm the girl, because that was what she was, a young elven girl. Hidden from Magisters that would have done Maker knows what to her.

This Cyrion had been very brave, the girl had been to.

"My name is Amethyne," the elf girl said nervously, she had almost forgotten her real name; it had been so long since she had said it out loud.

"Hello Amethyne," Hawke said grinning warmly, "welcome back."


	3. Chapter 3

Sword of Mercy

Part 3 of 6

Comfort

There was no such thing as safety.

That was the first lesson Amethyne had learned. A slave lived constantly under the blade, if you angered the master, did something foolish, or even just been in the wrong place at the wrong time, you would be punished.

Cyrion and the other servants had done much to shield her from the masters. They had hid the fact that she was a girl for her own safety. The blood of young elven girls was greatly prized in the Tevinter Imperium, innocence was the fuel for many a blood spell, and Maker help the girl if one of the master's "Guests" found an elven girl attractive.

So she had been hidden, Cyrion had cut her hair, as she grew older he bound her chest, to hide what she was becoming. She had always tried to speak in a gruffer more masculine voice as well, anything to hide what she was.

Now the time for hiding was over, part of her was grateful for that.

Ser Hawke and Ser Fenris had finally decided to make camp for the night. It allowed Amethyne to clean herself up for the first time in what felt like ages. She was also finally able to remove the accursed bandages that had hurt her chest so much. Ser Hawke had given her one of her shirts to wear, it was too big for her, and came down almost to her knees. For the first time since she was a child it looked like she was wearing a dress.

She found that she had missed dresses.

That night she sat beside the fire as her two defenders readied their small camp, she helped where she could but neither of the warriors would have it.

"You have been through much child, rest for now."

Amethyne was not used to resting; it was a new experience for her.

After they had eaten, and had all settled in for the night Amethyne began her tale. Teacher cautioned her to tread lightly, and tell only what the two warriors asked. As always she obeyed teacher's instructions.

She had been about seven years old when she had been sold into slavery. Before that she had lived in the Denerim Alienage in Ferelden. Her mother had been a lady in waiting to the wife of a wealthy nobleman. She remembered the last time her mother had said good bye to her.

"Be a good girl Amethyne," Iona had said, "I will bring you back something nice from Highever."

It was the last real memory she had of her mother.

Iona never came back, and Amethyne was alone.

Shortly after that the alienage was stormed, she was too young to know why. It was the first time she had seen death. Cyrion had hidden her during the worst of it, or at least he had tried to. After the purge humans had come, looking for stray elves left orphaned by the purge. That was when Cyrion had first cut her hair that was the night she had first become Amos.

It was also the first time Teacher had come to her, but she left that part out of her tale.

For a while peace had returned, the alienage had been sealed, but at least no one had attacked them. Cyrion would sometimes go without food so that she did not have to, she would always be grateful to him for that as well. Shortly after elves had started getting sick. Cyrion had done his best to keep her off the streets. Tevinters came later offering healing and protection from the sickness.

Fear had won out in the end though, in his concern Cyrion had brought her to the Tevinter healers. The two of them had been taken into quarantine to be given the protection spell.

That had been when they had been taken, that had been when they had been sold into slavery.

Ser Hawke had bristled angrily at the thought of her countrymen being sold into slavery. Ser Fenris placed a hand on the scarred woman's shoulder, trying to calm her.

Amethyne remembered the ship; it had taken weeks to sail back to the Imperium. Many elves had died on the trip back. She remembered the slave market in Minrathous; fortunately she and Cyrion had managed to stay together.

As years passed she, as Amos, did many jobs in the master's household, climbing on high to clean rafters, or running errands in the markets. Her small size allowed her to stay hidden and out of the way.

Then three months ago the master had gathered her and thirty other slaves, he hired soldiers and they had set off for the Free Marches. When the rumors began that they were to be used for some kind of ritual, Cyrion could wait no longer, he had caused a distraction which had allowed Amethyne to escape, Cassius the Master's apprentice had since the hunters after her.

That is when she found her way to Hawke.

"Please," she begged her hand running nervously through her short hair, "Cyrion, he is like a father to me. You can't just let him die, please!"

Hawke said that she would help.

The woman offered Amethyne her tent for the night, the elven girl told her that was not necessary, but Hawke had insisted. So Amethyne slipped into the tent, Hawke's bed roll was nice and soft, far nicer than the beds of straw the girl was used to.

No sooner has she had laid her head down she was asleep.

It was then that teacher could truly come to her; it was then that her lessons could continue.

IOI

Fenris watched Hawke as she sharpened and cleaned her blades by the fire, these were not the actions of the woman he had come to know over the past seven years, these were the actions of a machine of war.

Hawke promised Amethyne that they would save Cyrion and the others; even Fenris was hard pressed not to want to help the girl, but he still had doubts. He still feared the two of them would not be enough, but he said nothing in front of Amethyne.

Now that they were alone however he had to speak his mind.

"We are getting very close to Starkhaven Hawke,"

The woman did not even look up from her work.

Had she not heard him?

"I said…"

"I heard you Fenris," she answered gruffly, "So?"

"In the last town we passed. I heard stories that Sebastian had returned there, that he was gathering support to reclaim his crown."

"We don't need choir boy's help." She growled.

Fenris should have expected that. Hawke was still a little angry at Sebastian. She had hoped that when he left Kirkwall he would have taken Bethany with him. She had seen the look on the prince's face when he regarded her sister, and she remembered that Bethany had always looked on him with favor. When he had chosen his vows over her sister Hawke had been understandably angry. Now Bethany was off alone in Ferelden, Hawke feared for her sister.

That did not change the fact that they could use the help however.

"We cannot do this alone Hawke, not the two of us."

She looked at him for the first time, her blue eyes cold and hard.

"I never knew you to shy away from dealing with slavers Fenris?"

"I do not fear them Hawke, but I fear that you do not truly want to help this girl."

"Then why did I offer to help her then?" Hawke laughed bitterly, "I could have easily sent her away."

"But that would not have given you what you want."

"And what is that Fenris?"

"Death," the Tevinter elf answered.

Hawke's work ceased, she looked at her companion, her face a mask of surprise and fury. How could he say such a thing?

Fenris rose his arms across his chest. He had never been one to shy away from inconvenient truths.

Hawke would face this now.

"I think you want to die Hawke," he growled, "You have become increasingly wreck less and blood thirsty in the last few months. You have leapt into battle without any fore thought. Your skills have saved you up to this point, but that will not always be the case. I think you want to die so you can go to join your abomination."

Hawke was almost in his face now, her eyes blazing with anger and hate.

"How…how dare …you." She hissed.

Fenris was unmoved, if Hawke chose to strike him so be it, he was used to being struck. She would listen, it was not just her life on the line here, it was Amethyne's and the other slaves as well.

"It is possible to do this Hawke, but not by your way." Fenris clarified, "innocent lives are at stake. You understood that once. You have to think about the lives we are trying to save, not the ones you are planning to end."

She almost laughed in her companions face, and she would have if she was not so angry.

"And what did thinking like that get me Fenris!" Hawke roared, "I gave everything…EVERYTHING, for the people in Kirkwall. I watched over them. I protected them, and look where I am now. I HAVE NOTHING FENRIS! **NOTHING! **Mother is gone! Carver is gone! Bethany is gone! Andraste guide me, even Jester is gone! What has protecting others ever brought me but pain."

Jester had been Hawke's Mabari warhound, he had died from injuries he received fighting in the Gallows. Hawke had spoken not a word for almost a week when it had happened.

Fenris said nothing, he let Hawke vent, she needed to vent.

"Anders lied to me! HE BETRAYED ME! HE USED ME! All because he wanted to die making a statement, A STATEMENT!" her voice became more shrill. Fenris feared she would wake the girl, but said nothing.

Hawke needed to get this out.

"I loved him. Maker save me, but I did. I…wanted to believe him, and when he knelt before me I almost found it in my heart to forgive him."

Hawke's lip quivered, her rage becoming sorrow, she fought against the tears but they would not stop. Not this time.

"He endangered innocent lives. He endangered Bethany's. I could not forgive him for that. He had crossed a line. He had to be punished. It…it had to be me. "

_I told you I would break your heart._

Anders words burned in her breast, yet she still loved him. She hated him for what he had done, but she still loved the man he had been.

It was stupid. It was pathetic.

It was human.

It was Hawke.

"I can't stop," she whimpered, "if I stop, if I think about everything I have lost. I'll fall apart. It can't have all been for nothing Fenris. Everything I was, everything I did. I refuse to believe that it was all for nothing. That I was meant to have nothing."

Fenris said nothing, there was nothing to say.

IOI

Hawke stared into the Tevinter elf's green eyes. He just stood there as she poured her broken heart all over the ground, he might have been a statue for all the support he showed her. Tears leaked from her eyes, but she still refused to cry, she would not cry.

Finally he spoke.

"You are one of the strongest women I have ever known Hawke, I…hate to see you like this. If there is anything I can do to make this better just ask and it will be done."

She gasped.

Strong.

It was the word that she had always defined herself by. When Father had died of the wasting she had to be strong for Mother and the twins. When Carver had died she had to be strong for Bethany and Mother. When Bethany had went to the circle she had to be strong for Mother. When Mother had died she had to remain strong, Kirkwall needed her. When Anders had torn out her heart, she had to be strong for the innocent mages, Bethany included, they had needed her help, and in each and every case one thing remained the same. She hid behind another smart mouthed quip and she never cried.

She had never **ever **cried.

They stood there together for what seemed like an eternity. Finally he sighed and started to turn to leave her.

"Fenris," her voice was so small barely a whisper.

The elf stopped, he turned, his eyes seemed to be staring deep into her soul, and could see the scars there.

She knew she should stop, that she should say nothing more.

She could not do it, not this time.

"Fenris," she whispered, "I am tired, so very tired of being strong."

She came to him then, embraced him as she had never done before. Pained tears fell from her eyes, mourning long overdue came to Marian Hawke at last. There would be no quips, no smart mouthed observations. She no longer had the strength for it.

She needed someone else to be strong for her tonight.

She needed him to be strong.

They kissed, weakly at first, but finally with more and more passion. He led her to his tent; it was there that they stripped off their armor, their souls and bodies laid bare.

He had desired this for seven long years, to hold her, to protect her, and for this night Hawke needed him.

He would be there for her.

Their passion set off his markings bringing great pain, and flashes of his former life. He endured them for her.

He would be there for her, be there for her in a way the abomination had never truly been.

He would never leave her, and he would die to protect her.

**He** would be strong.

IOI

So lost in their own desires Amethyne's defenders failed to notice what was happening in Hawke's tent.

A strange inhuman glow radiated from the tent like a beacon, a glow coming from the sleeping elf.

Amethyne mouthed the words that Teacher gave her as she dreamed.

The glow intensified.

If one was to look into the glow they would see something, some… things. They were trapped within the light generated by the little elf, but they longed to be free…they yearned to be free.

A freedom that only the little elf girl denied them.

They fought against the light.

They would be free.

One way or another.

**Next chapter: Teacher is revealed.**


	4. Chapter 4

A Sword of Mercy

Part 4 of 6

Teacher

She rose before the dawn.

She opened her eyes and realized where she was, and panic exploded in her breast. She slipped carefully out of his arms. She quietly sorted through their clothes, her shirt, her leggings, her boots and her smalls. Blushing she pulled on her small clothes and leggings, she scrambled out of his tent, yanking her tunic over her head.

She nearly tripped over their armor and weapons, piled outside the tent, she cursed angrily under her breath.

_Maker save me, I think I'm going to be sick._

Hawke fought the bile rising in her throat.

She tried to calm herself, guilt and shame boiled in her gut. She felt horrible, Fenris was her friend, perhaps her only one and she…she…

There was no easy way to say it; she had taken advantage of him last night.

He had been so kind to her, so supportive, and she…she had…

_She writhed atop him attacking him hungrily. He responded to her touch, growling fiercely. She moaned as they came together. "Save me Fenris," she had gasped, "Please save me."_

She shuddered at the memory. Maker how could she do such a thing.

_It can't happen again, I can't do this to myself or anyone else… I must be cold. I must be hard._

Last night she had given into her weakness. She cursed herself for the fool she was.

It would be better to forget, forget how she had cried in his arms, forget how he had held her, soothed her.

She tried to bring up the wall of rage that she had hid behind these many months, she just wanted to hide, she wanted to forget.

But the wall would not come, finally crying last night had broken it, perhaps beyond repair. Hawke still hurt, but she could feel again.

She was not certain if that was a good thing.

Fenris had not been wrong; she had made mistakes these last few months. If they were going to save Amethyne's fellow slaves they would have to be smart. They could do it by themselves, but they would have to be careful.

_You have to bury it. Bury what you're feeling, it is not necessary. Fenris would understand that you needed to be comforted last night, but you have to remain cold now, to remain sharp, that is the only way to save these people._

Hawke sighed as she drew her great sword; she tried to focus, to draw on the things her father had taught her so long ago. When she was young she had learned to shut out everything when she was training.

_In combat the world does not exist_, her Father had told her once, _there is you, your weapon, and your enemy. These are the three things that matter most. Master these three things and you will come back alive._

She breathed in through her nose and out her mouth; she tried to find that calm place inside herself, the place where all warriors must go.

The world fell away, there was just her and her sword…she began.

Her blade cut the air as she moved, losing herself to the dance of form and discipline, as a girl she had done these training sequences until her shoulders throbbed and sweat poured down her back. She had strength, but it would never be to the same degree as Father or Carver. When she had finished Father would tend to the bleeding blisters on her hands, or bind her wounds when he or Carver had caught her when sparring.

She had loved those days, she missed those days.

When she was fifteen Father began training another student, Justin, a boy from Lothering. He had been the first person to meet the Hawkes when they arrived, just a boy who enjoyed wandering outside the village. He had been Carver and Bethany's age so it was not surprising the three had become friends, but there had been a problem. He was the son of a local missionary, and at first Mother had feared he would learn too much about them and contact the Templars.

But Justin was not like that, his Father had all but abandoned the poor boy as he followed his calling, thus Justin had wandered wild. He had a talent for trouble and soon he began dragging Carver along with him.

That was probably the point that Father had decided to take the boy under his wing.

"If the boys are going to get into trouble Leandra," Father had said, "then they should know how to get out of it as well."

Justin had become a skilled dual wielder with Father's training. Father and Carver both fought with either a great sword or pole arm. Justin fought with a sword and dagger, he was fast and agile, Marian had defeated him, but not without trouble.

_If he had lived he might have been as good as me by now._

Justin had left Lothering shortly after Father had passed. A few months later, his Father received word that he had died, Carver was angry about that, he had few friends growing up. Poor Bethany cried herself to sleep for a week. She had told Mother it was because she missed Father, but Marian had always suspected that Beth had a bit of a crush on the boy, her first love, and her first broken heart, all at the same time. Bethany never would have admitted it though.

_Just another person who had passed out of her life._

Marian snorted, this was getting pathetic_, you lose people you love it is a part of life. Deal with it. Focus on your training the sword and nothing else._

Her blade cut the air, parry, thrust, parry, thrust.

"Where did you learn that?"

Hawke jumped, she nearly dropped her blade, Father would have shaken his head to see how easily she could be distracted these days.

Amethyne sat outside her tent watching intently.

Hawke sighed trying to find her focus again.

"From my Father," she answered the girl.

"Is it hard to learn?"

"It takes time," Hawke shrugged," and a lot of practice."

The elf considered her words.

"Could you teach me?"

Hawke paused, she regarded Amethyne carefully. She was small for an elf, but that was not necessarily a bad thing. She had some strength, Marian could see some muscle tone on her arms, she would not have survived as a slave without having some physical power.

She would likely never wield a great sword like Hawke or Fenris, but a sword and shield, or perhaps even a dual wielder. It was possible.

_Why not_ she thought.

She motioned Amethyne to come forward; she took one of the daggers they had salvaged from the dead hunters. She brought up a buckler as well.

She handed them to the elf.

"Let us begin," she said calmly.

IOI

Fenris woke to a world of pain.

Memories flitted like fireflies across his mind names, faces, people he had known, yet could not now remember whispered in his mind, and above it all a name he knew, a name that tormented his sleep more than Danarius or Hadriana's

Leto.

The markings burned like lava beneath his skin, he tried to focus, to push back the pain. Hawke had needed him last night; he had needed to be strong for her.

He was no stranger to pain; they were in fact old friends.

The sound of voices drew him out of himself, Hawke and the girl Amethyne.

"Slowly now," Hawke barked, "attack me slow. Now attack."

He heard the sound of steel meeting steel; he nearly leapt from the tent before he heard Hawke speak again.

"Good," she praised the girl. "You performed sequence two and three perfectly, as you progress your muscles will learn to perform these sequences without thought, muscle memory will do the work. Now try combining them with the shield."

Curiosity got the better of Fenris he nearly left the tent before he realized that he was still naked.

Cursing himself he grabbed his trouser and small clothes. Once he was dressed he went out the see what was going on.

Hawke paced quietly around Amenthyne, The elven girl held a dagger in one hand a buckler in the other. Hawke called out numbers as the girl responded moving her arms to match. Occasionally, Hawke would stop and adjust the girl's arms or gently nudge her legs to get them set where they needed to be.

Fenris recognized it all, stance, form, and discipline.

He was intrigued; Hawke was teaching the girl how to fight.

Amethyne glanced up, she gasped and nearly threw her dagger, Hawke turned as well.

"Good morning," Fenris said politely.

IOI

Hawke felt her mouth go dry. She could not help but admire how the markings ran tantalizingly down Fenris arms and chest. The muscles in his chest were far more defined than any other elf she had seen.

_My, my… that is…interesting._

Amethyne blushed and looked away, her pointed ears as red as the setting sun. Hawke regarded him for a second, before looking away as well. This is the first time she had seen the Tevinter elf unclothed from the waist up, to be honest she had not looked too closely last night, she had had…others things on here mind.

_It was…nice to say the least._

"You should get your shirt Fenris," she chided, "your distracting the poor girl."

"Oh…right," he said ducking back into the tent for his shirt.

Hawke continued working with Amethyne for the next few hours, while Fenris prepared a small meal. Hawke may have been an excellent warrior, but her cooking was mediocre at best.

It was a good thing that he had decided to travel with her, if not for Fenris, Hawke likely would have starved months ago.

They did not speak of the night before, that was a discussion for another day. Fenris was not sure if what they had done mattered to Hawke, but one thing was for certain, it had meant something to him. Despite the pain the experience had brought him, he would do it again in a heartbeat.

He hoped that she would one day see it and him for what it was.

A chance at a new beginning.

IOI

They spent the next two days travelling toward the Tevinter ruin where the Magister was hiding, Hawke continued training with Amethyne, and even Fenris would throw in a tip or two.

Teacher praised the girl for her ingenuity, the two warriors were provided her the physical skills she would need.

Soon they would reach the Tevinter ruin and her former master.

Then they would see what could be done to help their friends.

IOI

The hunter fell, his heart crushed inside his chest, Fenris withdrew his hand the man dropped without a sound, two patrols down, one to go.

Hawke had decided stealth was their best ally here. Pick off the wandering patrols first before entering the ruins. The first two had gone like lambs to the slaughter. The third would be more difficult.

The third contained a mage.

Fenris tightened his hand on his blade. He counted at least ten traveling with the mage, who stayed in the center, safe behind a wall of his guards. Fenris could not see Hawke, but he knew she was there.

Her smite struck the mage.

Fenris darted out quickly, his blade flashing, the markings on his skin blazing like an inferno. Two, three, four of the mage's guards fell.

Hawke was at his side now, their blades became one, he could predict her movements just as she could predict his…they were a lethal combination.

They tried to reach the mage before he could lend aid to his men…they did not make it, worse the mage did not respond as they would have thought.

He was injured, he panicked, he surrendered…

He changed.

His robes burst as his flesh expanded, flame crackled on his skin. Eyes boiled in their sockets as the creature took hold.

The abomination rose.

Hawke tried to smite the creature, but she was not recovered enough yet, it swatted her out of the way like a bug.

Fenris roared his markings pulsed hurting the creature, it roared as it gestured. Shades rose from the ground.

The surviving Tevinter guards panicked, the shades tore into them. Fenris killed two, but the third raked his chest. He tried to fall back, the abomination pinned him in a stasis field.

The creature hissed with delight, it approached the elf.

It was eager for the kill.

IOI

Amethyne watched from the shadows, she saw the abomination rise, the shades be summoned.

She watched as Fenris was about to die.

_Teacher help him!_ The elf called.

_I will apprentice_, teacher's voice rang in her mind, _open the door._

Amethyne obeyed, her world turned white. Her glow became a beacon.

A beacon her teacher followed.

A glowing hand emerged from the light generated by her small frame.

Teacher stepped into the world of mortals… and she was very angry.

IOI

Fenris glared at the abomination, he would not cry out, he would not give the beast that satisfaction.

It raised a clawed hand.

"Creature of rage," a powerful voice rang out, "Burn!"

The abomination wailed as it burst into flame. The field holding Fenris collapsed the elf whirled, eager to see whoever had saved him.

He was surprised to say the least.

It was a knight, but a knight like he had never seen before. The warrior glowed like a star, her armor was almost translucent, he could almost see right through her, and yes it was a her, the voice he had heard was definitely feminine.

Or at least it chose to appear feminine.

The warrior scooped up one of the Tevinter swords and engaged the shades. She fought with a skill as great as his or Hawke's.

Hawke? Where was she?

"Fenris look out!"

He dodged as Hawke leapt at the shade trying to ooze up behind him. Her blade bisected the creature, it shrieked as it crumbled into black ash.

Between the three of them the battle ended quickly, the Tevinters fell quickly; the shades lasted only a few moments more. Soon it was just the three of them Fenris, Hawke, and their glowing savior.

Fenris glared at the creature, it regarded him curiously.

The look made him angry.

"Ser Fenris stop," Amethyne cried out, "she is my friend!"

Friend?

He paused, Hawke gasped as she saw the approaching Amethyne. The girl was glowing like a lantern, the light flowed into the spectral knight, she breathed deeply as the light washed over her.

"Amethyne," Hawke said, trying to control her disbelief, "who is this?"

"She is a friend," Amethyne said with reverence, she dropped to one knee before the creature, her head bowed in respect.

"My teacher," she purred.

"Arise apprentice," the glowing figure proclaimed, "you are my student not my servant."

The elf complied. Teacher turned to face the two warriors.

"I bid you greetings mortals," the glowing knight said respectfully, "I am Mercy, a spirit of compassion, a warrior of the fade. "

She approached the two and kneeled respectfully. Hawke and Fenris could only stare in awe.

"And I have come to aid you."

**Author's note: Hawke's friend Justin is one of the main characters in my story **_**Chant of Darkness**_** if you do not know, and he is most decidedly not dead. As to if he is as good a warrior as Hawke, well we will just have to wait and see. "Chuckles" part five will be up soon.**


	5. Chapter 5

A Sword of Mercy

Part 5 of 6

Battle

Hawke stared into Mercy's glowing eyes, a wave of emotions swept over her fear, anger, disgust, awe.

_A spirit, why in Andraste's name did it have to be a spirit?_

_I told you I would break your heart._

No! Stop that! This isn't Justice, this is not Vengeance, it is a spirit of compassion, and it is here to help.

_There is no such thing as a good spirit, they all want something._

Merrill had told Anders that once; he had nearly killed an innocent mage in one of his rages as Vengeance. He had been yelling at the Dalish for her not understanding the difference between benevolent and malicious spirits.

How was the spirit even here? Spirits just couldn't conjure themselves up, and what had happened to Amethyne.

"Abomination!" Fenris growled; he raised his sword towards the girl.

Amethyne gasped, she hid behind Mercy who cut the Tevinter elf off.

"Amethyne and I are not one wolf." The spirit growled defensively, "I am no demon, I would never bind myself to your mortal world, it is too…unchanging for my taste."

"Then how are you here?" Hawke asked in a small voice.

Mercy did not take her eyes off Fenris; she would defend Amethyne to the death if she had to. Fenris's markings glowed as bright as the spirit.

"You sing wolf," the spirit said admiringly, "but your music is off key, wrong. Was the music bound to you against your will?"

_Music? It must mean the markings_.

"I believed once that it was not my will." Fenris snarled, his eyes never leaving Mercy, "Now I know otherwise."

"I see," the spirit responded, "whoever did it to you was a fool. They did not complete the binding. You must be in terrible pain."

Hawke stifled a nervous laugh, to refer to a Magister as a fool, but then again she doubted that Mercy would have had the trouble that she had fighting Danarius.

Fenris did not respond; he had no desire to speak of his pain with a spirit.

"I could take the pain away," the spirit offered, "you would lose none of your abilities, and the pain would no longer torment you."

"And what would you want in return?" Fenris hissed, barely able to contain his rage.

"Nothing," the spirit shrugged, "I am compassion, I only wish to see an end to your suffering."

The spirit reached out to touch the Tevinter elf, his markings pulsed pushing her back.

"I want nothing you have to offer creature." He snarled.

"Fenris stand down," Hawke commanded, she would not have the two killing each other, not over this.

He glanced at her like she had lost her mind…but he obeyed…for now.

Mercy relaxed, she moved closer to Amethyne drinking in the light coming off her.

"As I have said mortals," Mercy continued, "my apprentice is not my thrall, she is my student. She is…a door way between my world and yours. I cannot survive here without the magics she provides me."

"Like a reed," Hawke offered, "You breathe through it when you are underwater, so you can stay under.

The spirit nodded, that was a close analogy to what she was doing.

"Then Amethyne is a mage?"

"No," the spirit said shaking her head, "she is not like those who wander the fade awake. She is Arcane; she is connected to the fade. She can do no spells, but she can draw its magic here. She can cloak herself in its power; wear it like a suit of armor. She does defensively what you do offensively wolf." The spirit said motioning to Fenris.

The male elf grumbled.

"Things of your world pass harmlessly through her when she uses her abilities," Mercy said pointing to the glowing Amethyne. "There was a time when mortals like Amethyne were quite common. They were the first Arcane Warriors. The Arcane taught the mages of the Elvhen to use abilities similar to their own. The ranks of the arcane warriors swelled. To the people they were symbols of compassion and a force for justice in this world."

Hawke shuddered; did the spirit have to mention justice?

"The old ones' mages destroyed the arcane; they used their rituals to destroy their minds. They became batteries for power to the first of what you call Magisters," the spirit said with distaste, "the blood of many arcane was used when they breached the city. It was… horrifying."

"The spirit refers to the old gods Hawke, to the black city."

She nodded, she figured that out herself.

"That is what the Magister intends to do to my apprentice," Mercy said glancing lovingly at the girl. "To see her mind destroyed, she would exist as a lifeless husk, fuel for the Magister's lust for power. I could not allow her to be harmed. In her blood, the key to the return of the arcane remains. I beg of you, do not let the spark go out of this world forever."

"Hawke the girl lied to us." Fenris said angrily, "this is not why we came here."

"I did not lie," Amethyne cried, "I did not tell the whole truth, but I never lied! Please Ser Hawke you must help us."

Hawke was tired. She was tired of spirits invading her life. She was tired of magic causing her loved ones harm. She was tired of the arguments.

She was tired of it all.

Part of her wanted to leave, to leave Mercy and Amethyne behind to fend for themselves, she was sick of spirits and mages, and the pain they cause others…but in doing so…

She would sentence the innocent prisoners in this temple to death.

Could she live with herself if that happened, if she turned her back on people she could help. What would Father have said to her? What would Mother have said?

Hawke sighed painfully; she had thought she was done with being a champion, being a hero…

She had lied to herself.

"This is not what we expected Fenris," she told her companion, "but when has it ever been. We continue on, we have people to save."

Amethyne let out a sigh of relief.

Fenris did not agree.

"How can you even agree to this Hawke." He hissed, "You know what a spirit's promises are worth."

"I'm not doing this for Mercy," she said grimly, "I'm doing this for Amethyne."

"The servant of a spirit Hawke, a girl who is only a few steps from becoming an Abomination."

"I would never possess my apprentice." Mercy growled.

The elf ignored her.

Hawke knew her friend's feelings on this matter, she understood him probably better than anyone else, but in this he was wrong.

She would not back down.

"We are saving these people Fenris," Hawke's tone brooked no room for discussion, "that is my final decision."

Fenris glared at her, a disgusted sigh escaped his lips. Hawke did not back down. She would not back down.

"This will not redeem him." The Tevinter elf sneered.

She did not want to ask, she already knew who he meant.

"Anders damned himself. Helping these people will not redeem him Hawke. He died a murderer."

Everything turned red.

Her slap snapped his head back; he glared at her, fury darkened his eyes, his markings blazed.

Hawke did not move.

It had been a low blow; Anders would always have a place in Hawke's heart for good or ill. She preferred to remember the easy going mage who believed that he could make a difference, not the corrupted thing that had fallen to his knees before her.

_The thing who had wanted his own death, who had courted it at her hands._

She had never wanted a martyr, she had wanted Anders, and now…he was gone.

The elf had not tried to attack her, even angered; she knew she had nothing to fear from him.

She needed his help here; she could not do this alone.

She took the first step.

"I am sorry Fenris," she sighed breathing out her anger, "I should not have done that, and to be honest neither should you have. Thirty innocent people Fenris, thirty, will you let them die because you don't trust Mercy; any one of those people could have been you years ago. Will you abandon them to death? Will you not help me save them?"

His markings faded, but it was clear he was still angry. He could be as stubborn as her when he wanted to be, but they did not have time for that. She needed his help now.

"Fenris please," she begged, "I need you."

His eyes softened, the fury faded, anger remained, but with it grim resolution.

He would not let her go alone.

"I will aid you Hawke," he said coolly, "but if you are wrong, we will both likely pay the price."

"If I'm wrong Fenris, none of us will be around to argue about this."

The elf nodded, he understood what was at stake.

Hawke turned to Mercy and her student.

"It is time," she said, resigned to her fate, "Let's do this."

IOI

The old ruin was a maze, trap filled tunnels with guards jumping them around every corner. The close quarters however worked to their advantage, the slavers could not surround them in such tight hallways.

The traps were still a pain however.

Hawke found herself missing Varric or Isabela right now; it would have been nice to have a little stealth in their group.

A glowing spirit and her glowing elven apprentice kinda stood out.

Never the less they pushed on, Mercy triggered the traps, she was intangible when she wanted to be so they did not harm her, and as long as Amethyne kept on glowing, the spirit had a well spring of power to feed from.

She could understand now why the Magister wanted her, and why she could not allow him to take her.

Amethyne stayed back, armoring herself in the fade's magic, arrows passed harmlessly through the elf, Hawke found herself a little jealous about that.

Finally they reached the center of the ruin; Hawke could hear chanting from the other side of the door.

No turning back now, she thought grimly, here we go.

Hawke kicked the door open.

IOI

The thirty slaves were bound in a glowing glyph upon the floor. Hawke could see the Magister standing in the middle, a lesser mage stood outside the ring chanting.

Hawke cleared her throat that got the mages' attention.

"Pardon us sers," she said sarcastically, "but is this the way to the privy, it certainly stinks enough in here."

The Magister glared at them his eyes wild with anger.

"WHO ARE YOU? WHAT DO YOU WANT! DID HE SEND YOU? HE DID DIDN'T HE?"

No not anger…fear.

"No one sent us," Hawked said glaring at the terrified mage, "Who did you think sent us: Puddles the Turtle? The Holy Cheese Wheel of Andraste perhaps?"

It was strange how she lapsed into sarcasm in front of a dangerous enemy, just one of her bad habits she supposed.

"I know who sent you." The mage giggled nervously, "And you have brought the elf as well I see. Well it won't work woman. I will not complete the ritual, not if it means the elf falls into the hands of the Witch King."

Hawke did not know who this Witch King was, but if it meant the Tevinter would stop the ritual, well more power to him.

"Cyrion!" Amethyne cried, an old elf with gray hair looked up, the girl tried to run to him, but Fenris restrained her.

"Release your prisoners fiend," Mercy cried her voice filled with righteous anger, "You who are without mercy will face the consequences of your actions."

"So the King has spirits on his side too now," the Tevinter said shaking his head, "then the world truly is lost."

The few guards and the lesser mage ran, abandoning their master.

"Cowards, Traitors!" the Magister wailed.

"Sorry Cassius," the lesser mage cried over his shoulder, "but we have our orders, the Witch King sends his warmest regards." He and the rest of the guards left the Magister to his fate.

"Abandoned!" the Magister wailed, "I am abandoned."

"You can still walk away from this," Fenris growled angrily, "Let the elves go and we will spare your life."

"Let them go," the Magister giggled hysterically, "You want me to let my property go elf. FINE! I WILL LET THEM ALL GO!"

The Magister gestured, Hawke moved to smite him…

But it was too late.

A blast of magical energy tore through the chamber, the elves bound to the glyph were vaporized instantly, Cyrion, Amethyne's guardian, vanished in a flash of light.

Amethyne wailed.

Hawke's eyes widened, he had…he had killed them, killed them all, and now he was giggling…GIGGLING.

Her eyes narrowed with hate and fury, if it was the last thing she did, the Magister was not getting out of here alive.

"Bastard!" Hawke snarled, she tried to advance, but blood magic filled the chamber, fel winds blew like a hurricane.

The Magister laughed, his fear of this unknown enemy had snapped his mind, he drank in the life energies of his fallen servants.

He began to change.

He grew, ten, fifteen feet in moments, horns and spikes tore through his robes. Blue flesh bulging with muscles tore his robes to shreds. His eyes blaze with arcane energies.

The Magister Cassius was gone, a massive pride abomination stood in his place.

The creature gave them a toothy grin.

Amethyne fell to her knees weeping in misery, Mercy stood before her shielding the girl.

There was only one thing that Hawke and Fenris could do for the poor slaves now.

They could avenge them.

They charged the monster, both had blood in their eyes…his.

**Author's note: I thank all those who have enjoyed **_**A sword of Mercy**_**, the final chapter will be up soon. I will see you then.**


	6. Chapter 6

A Sword of Mercy

Part 6 of 6

Healing

Empty

If there is one word to describe how Marian Hawke felt right now it would be empty. The battle was over, they had not freed the slaves, but the pride abomination was dead.

And Fenris…

No she could not think about that…not yet anyway.

She shuddered as she slipped beneath the water again, she had needed a bath after all the fighting, fortunately the Minanter River was right there. The water was cold being the fact that it was still early spring, but at least she was able to wash off the blood and sweat of the day's battle.

She emerged from the water slipping her tunic over her head, she padded softly back to their camp, the small fire warmed her after her rather cold dip. She found herself a little homesick for the Amell estate, and the hot baths that Orana would prepare for her.

But Kirkwall was not her home anymore; the Templars would likely kill her for what she had done there. Besides, the estate, the title, that had always been for mother. It had always been Bethany who had dreamed of Orlesian silk dresses and lace petticoats. Hawke had never felt truly comfortable in that life.

She was a warrior not some pampered noble doll.

But if she had been then maybe Fenris would not be…

STOP IT!

Hawke pushed those thoughts back, pushed back the anger and the guilt, what had happened to Fenris had been her fault, and she took full responsibility for it.

For once though she wished that victory could have come without such a high price, it was however a price she was willing to pay, so in the end maybe that was all that mattered.

Maybe it was the **only** thing that mattered.

She approached the first of the two tents, quietly; carefully she pulled back the flap. Amethyne slept curled up in Hawke's bedroll, a sheathed long sword, pulled against her chest like a child's toy.

Hawke felt sorry for the girl, a girl of thirteen or fourteen should have other things on her mind besides killing things. Unfortunately she could not give Amenthyne the innocence that she had lost back. The elven girl had turned a corner, and there was no going back.

Her mind drifted back to the battle, and what Amethyne had cast aside there.

IOI

Fenris and Hawke danced around the abomination, looking for a nice soft spot, if they could wound the creature, bring it down to its knees they could end this fight with a swift swing of their swords, but the creature would not give them that chance. It was powerful after having fed on the life energies of the slain elven slaves.

Hawke tried to weaken it with her Templar abilities, but the creature's power seemed to be almost limitless.

Fenris darted in again, eager to swipe at the back of the creatures knees; unfortunately it was ready this time. As he moved in the creature swung its powerful arms. The spikes on its forearms tore through the Tevinter Elf's stomach, he gasped as the Abomination swatted him like a bug, he hit the wall with a sickening wet snap.

_Fenris! No!_

Hawke charged again wailing in rage, she had no idea if her friend was alive or dead, but she could not help him yet. Not until this foul bastard was dead.

With only one opponent to focus on the Abomination now had the advantage, Hawke was tiring and the creature's strength was limitless from all the magic in the air.

It seemed like this was the end.

"MASTER!"

The voice of a very angry Amethyne drew the creature's attention; the girl's eyes were cold as stone as she glared hatefully at the beast. Hawke could not see Mercy anywhere, had the spirit been destroyed, or had she fled back into the fade?

Hawke tried to draw the creature's attention, but it was no use.

The Abomination advanced on the girl.

"You want magic Master?" the elf asked tauntingly.

The creature flattened the girl with one of its fists, Hawke shrieked in agony.

Only Amethyne was not dead, she phased through the beast using her gift, she became solid again only once she stood atop the creature's arm. She darted up its arm and shoulder without fear.

She drew the dagger that Hawke had been training her with; when she reached the creature's shoulder she leaped.

She buried the blade deep into the creature's eye.

The abomination roared in torment.

"We fight as one apprentice," Mercy appeared behind the creature, her blade severing the tendons in the back of the Abominations legs.

It fell.

Amethyne was not done, the glow that surrounded her grew brighter, she shone like a star.

"YOU WANT MAGIC! HERE IS ALL THE MAGIC YOU WANT!"

The Abomination's body drank the power, it grew larger, but then something began to happen. Its flesh began to bulge out, light shone from its eyes nose and mouth. The creature let out a sound that could only be described as a whimper; it was too much, too fast. It gazed at the girl with its good eye imploring her to stop.

The girl glared back hatefully.

"Those without mercy deserve none." She growled, "For Cyrion, for all of them, you DIE!"

The abomination exploded.

IOI

Hawke stared down at the sleeping girl; she gently brushed her fingers across her face.

The girl stirred.

"Cyrion?" she asked.

Hawke's heart lurched.

"No dear it is only me," she replied.

The elf starred at her with those sad green eyes. She was in mourning for her lost guardian and the other slaves as well, but there was something more there now.

Her eyes shone with cold determination and resolve.

"Never again," the elf whispered.

Hawke gave her a questioning look.

"I won't let it happen, Ser Hawke, never again," Amethyne's eyes burned with purpose, "I want you to teach me, train me to be like you and Ser Fenris. I want to destroy the Magisters, the hunters, the slavers. They will free the slaves they hold captive, if they don't I'll…"

She hushed the girl. This was not the time, the girl needed to heal, before she should make such a pledge.

Hawke understood that now.

"I'll train you, but there is more to fighting then just dealing death. If you must fight, fight for people that need your help, your protection, and never believe that innocents should be sacrificed for your own goals. The heart, the hands, and the head as my Father once taught me. Otherwise you will become as evil as the Magister."

_As evil as Anders and Justice_.

The elf listened, Cyrion would not have wanted her to become like the Magister. He would want her to fight for people like themselves. To defend others, and punish those who would do evil, without becoming evil herself.

That would be Amenthyne's goal.

That would be her revenge.

Tears flowed from her eyes as she embraced Hawke. She sobbed, mourning her fellow slaves, and mourning the innocence in herself that had died.

Hawke knew the feeling all too well.

She stayed with the girl, until she fell asleep again. Silently quietly she left her tent.

One other needed her attention tonight.

IOI

After the battle Hawke ran to Fenris, he lay in the corner of the chamber, his belly ripped open his breathing labored.

He was dying.

Amethyne lay unconscious on the floor next to what remained of the dead Abomination. Mercy drifted over to Hawke and Fenris her glowing eyes filled with sadness.

"He is leaving now." She murmured.

"NOOO!" Hawke wailed; she turned to the spirit, her eyes blazing with fear and anger, "Help him! Please! HELP HIM!"

"He is going to his rest, a release from his pain, is that not better?"

"No it isn't," Hawke snarled, "WE HELPED YOU DAMN IT, and now you will just stand there and let him die! How could you!"

The spirit had nothing to say.

For the first time in her life Hawke did something she never had thought she would do. She did something that she had nearly done the night Bethany was taken away to the circle.

She begged.

"Please, if you can save him do it!" Her eyes were filled with tears, "PLEASE, HE IS ALL I HAVE LEFT."

The spirit's resolve broke.

"I can save him," she said, her voice pained, "but if I do, you must do something for me."

Hawke wanted to scream, how the spirit could bargain at a time like this, it was no better than a demon.

"If I save him I will be gravely weakened," the spirit sighed, "I will likely never be strong enough to enter your world again. That means that my apprentice will be all alone here. If I save the wolf, the man…the man you are growing to love. I must ask you to take care of Amethyne for me. Those are my conditions."

Love?

Hawke had always cared for Fenris…but?

She nodded, she would walk into the void for a friend, she would do this for Amethyne and Fenris.

The spirit nodded, she approached the injured elf.

"Such sad music," Mercy said regarding his marking, she touched his chest.

The world turned white.

IOI

Hawke looked down on Fenris, asleep on his bedroll; it had been hard carrying him back here herself. Mercy had been forced to flee back to the fade through Amethyne after he had been healed.

An ugly red scar graced his perfect abdomen now; still it could have been worse.

_And that would have been a waste of a perfectly handsome elf._

Hawke reached to touch the scar, to make sure it was healing properly.

Fenris's eyes snapped open he seized her hand.

He growled.

"It is only me" she said in a soothing tone.

He sighed, regarding her with that hard stare of his, any anger faded.

She helped him sit up just enough to have some water, he nodded gratefully to her.

"Amethyne?" he asked.

"Asleep," Hawke replied, "She saved us today, she save you."

He grunted thoughtfully at that.

"We cannot let her go Hawke," he said grimly, "with that spirit guiding her she is too dangerous."

Hawke tended to agree, she did not tell Fenris about the deal she had made with Mercy.

That was hers to bear and hers alone.

"Which is why I will take her, I will train her. I will teach her the meaning of compassion beyond what a spirit would think. I won't let her turn into another Anders Fenris, I swear it."

He considered this in that broody manner of his.

She had always found that kind of sexy.

He nodded, "I agree."

"Will you stay with me?" she asked, "Will you help me?"

He paused, gathering his thoughts before he replied.

"The magisters will not forget this Hawke; another will come for the girl. She is too powerful for them not too, and then there is this Witch King the Magister spoke of."

Hawke nodded she worried about this as well. Someone powerful enough to convince a Magister's own guards to abandon him. That was a person to be concerned about.

"You will need my blade in the coming months I think," Fenris said coolly, "I will help you in this."

She smiled gratefully, glad for his support.

He gave her a strange look.

"Are you well Hawke?"

She thought about saying that she was fine or that he need not worry, but the words died on her tongue.

"I am not all right Fenris," she said her eyes filling with pained tears, "but I will be…in time."

A hint of a smile came to Fenris's face; there was the Hawke he remembered.

He glanced down at her bare feet and legs, realizing then that she wore a shirt and nothing else.

He blushed slightly.

She looked down, realized what he was thinking and laughed lightly, it wasn't like he had not seen her naked before after all.

She lay down next to him, he placed an arm around her, he was still too sore to be intimate with her tonight, but he could at least hold her.

She took comfort in this.

"Fenris?" she asked.

"Yes?"

"I…I don't know if this will work between us."

He found that he did not know either, but he was willing to try.

She smiled warmly at him, "But I'll try if you will."

Fenris chuckled.

It seemed that you did not need magic to read minds after all.

He held her for the rest of the night, in the morning they would be off again, the three of them.

He found that he looked forward to that.

EPILOGUE

A lone figure paused in what had once been Hawke's campsite outside of Tantervale. He sniffed the air like a bloodhound. He could smell Hawke on the air; he could taste her on the wind.

He was getting closer.

He was a tall man and gaunt, his bald head was shiny when he removed his hood, which was one reason that he never did. The other reason was his face.

It was not very pleasant.

His skin was gray and peeling, his eyes were cloudy and dry. His black tongue worked inside his mouth as he searched for the bitch who had betrayed them.

The bitch who had tried to murder them.

He cared nothing for the mages anymore, or the Templars, they would kill each other now…but Hawke…Hawke deserved their special attention.

Hawke would suffer. She would burn.

The man smiled at the idea.

He had once been known as Thrash, a bounty hunter in Lowtown Kirkwall, but now he had another name and a new calling.

To punish a murdering, betraying bitch.

He walked back to his horse, it whickered nervously, it did not like it's rider but had no choice to obey.

He flung himself up into the saddle.

Magic crackled against his skin, it formed hair and a ponytail on his bare scalp, feathered paudrons made of fel energy danced on his shoulders.

"We are coming baby," it hissed in not one but three different overlapping voices, Hawke would have recognized two of them.

And she would have known despair.

"We are coming, no one escapes Justice forever."

The creature rode on.

The hunt continued.

Not the End.

More on the Witch King in Chant of Darkness. Also I am not done with Hawke, Fenris, Amethyne, or Justice…Another story coming soon. Until then enjoy the stories.


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